


When the Cold Creeps In

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, all around good time, lil bit of angst, lil bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 03:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: Jude and Cardan both battle with their feelings for each other and reality.





	When the Cold Creeps In

Snow fell in flurries from the dreary gray sky. Flakes stuck to my eyelashes, and I blinked them away. Travelling with royalty through the densely wooded forests of Insmire meant that I had to remain alert. I scanned the path ahead for any anomalies, my ears attuned to any sound. My focus is broken, however, when the King sidles next to me.

“Its freezing,” Cardan complains, teeth chattering as he rubs his arms. I pointedly look at the numerous furs he is bundled up in before rolling my eyes. No way in hell can he possibly be cold.

“The only thing cold here is my heart,” I say, and spur my stallion ahead. I would not fall for his Kingly ‘s tricks. We had to stay on task if we wanted to reach the Court of Termites by midday. We couldn’t afford to stop because someone got a bit chilly.

“Jude! How can you expect me to appear put-together and royal if I’m shivering? You’ve got to have an extra cloak or something in those saddlebags.”

I sigh, pulling back on the reigns until we are even. I glare at him, only because he is right. “I do, in fact, have an extra cloak. But I’m not letting you ruin it.”

“Come on,” he says, turning his wicked smile on me. “Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Nope.” He wouldn’t get his grimy, greedy Fair hands on my ocean blue velvet cloak. It was the one thing I had allowed myself to splurge on recently. The clasp was forged in brass, and was trimmed with lush, white fur. And it certainly wasn’t cheap.

“I promise not to get mud on it.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I swear!”

“Not happening, your Highness.”

“Fine then. I guess this council might be cut short due to my frostbitten fingers and toes.” He wiggles his hands in my face for emphasis. Fed up with his spoiled attitude, I sling the cloak from my shoulders and hold it out to him.

His smile fades. “Oh, no. you keep it, or you’ll be cold. I was only joking-“

“Just take the damn cloak,” I growl, beginning to regret my decision to be nice. I avoid Cardan’s eyes as his fingers brush mine as they close around the fabric. I snap out my treasured blue cloak and wrap it over my shoulders.

As fate would have it, my mare chose that very moment to splash through a puddle, splattering thick clumps of mud onto the long fur hem. I let out an exasperated sound and glare at Cardan.

We don’t speak a word the rest of the way to the Roach’s palace.

* * *

 

************

The silver-haired king greets us at the front gates, all kind smiles and warm words. Our horses are whisked away to be brushed and fed by human servants, and I hope my face does not betray my distaste at the sight.

Cardan and I, along with the rest of the Royal guard, are led into the massive dining hall. Torches light the giant space from floor to ceiling, which arches high above our heads. The walls are intricately carved marble, and I admire the craftsmanship from afar as the monarchs take their seats at the long wooden table.

Talks with King Robien go smoothly, judging by what I observe from my spot at the edge of the dining hall. After all, as his Royal Highness’ bodyguard, it would be uncouth for me to join them. I clench my jaw at the harsh reality. As a mortal, I could never hold any real power here in Faerie. Not outright, at least. No one knows the true power of the throne lies in my hands, and I intend to keep it that way, for all our sakes.

So I stand stoically as Cardan and the King talk and laugh, content to let him fill me in later.

After the meal is finished, Cardan purposely raises his voice loud enough that I can hear him. “While I do enjoy your company good sir, I must insist that I return home tonight.”

“Won’t you stay the night? I’ve prepared guest chambers for you and yours. Certainly you must be tired after a day’s journey.”

“While I appreciate your kind offer, I must insist on returning to my homestead. I have an appointment tomorrow that I cannot miss.”

“Very well.” The Roach King tips his goblet respectfully in Cardan’s direction as he rises to his feet, giving a curt bow.

If there’s one thing Cardan can be counted on for, its civility when needed most. But not when it comes to me, apparently. The incident earlier in the forest proved that.

I bark orders at the palace guard to retrieve the horses and prepare to depart. Cardan tries to catch my eye as we wait to mount our steeds, but I stare straight ahead. My chestnut mare is brought to me, and I swing onto her without a second thought.

“Jude-“

“Save it, Cardan.” I signal to the others to move out.

I ride through the winter storm in only my simple uniform, my stained cloak balled up in my saddlebags.

************

By the time we reach the estate, I cannot feel my nose. My fingers are nearly frozen around the reigns, and I have to blow on them to warm them enough to pry them free. Thankfully, I made it back first and am able to avoid Cardan’s selfishness for a few more hours. I stumble to my chambers and collapse under the thick, down-filled covers without even removing my muddied boots. The fire is burning in the hearth, a fact that I am incredibly grateful for. Exhausted, I close my eyes and let my mind wander.

As usual, my thoughts swirl around the King. My still numb hands curl into loose fists as I recall his earlier whining.  _Must_ he be such an entitled brat? Did he ever stop and think how his actions and words might affect others?

I sigh deeply. Of course he does. I’ve peeked behind the mask he wears. I’ve gotten a glimpse, no matter how small, of his heart and the tenderness of it. I’m one of the few that knows he feels more deeply than he lets on. I almost pity him for the way he has to hide his true self.

Almost.

I’m nearly asleep when the door creaks open, causing me to bolt upright.

Cardan stops in his tracks, the flames of the fireplace dancing in his black eyes. “I hoped you’d be sleeping.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, slinging off the covers and stalking toward him.

“I came to talk,” he says quietly, shifting on his feet. “And to give you this.” He holds out my borrowed cloak, which smells sweet and soapy, like its been freshly washed. I stare at it, completely dumbfounded. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I hadn’t expected that I’d ever get it back.

“Thank you.” I hang it on a hook behind the door. “But we can discuss the Roach King in the morning. Right now, I just want to sleep.”

“Actually…” Cardan starts, his expression softening. His tail makes a rare appearance, flicking across the floor. “That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m in no mood to discuss the lack of your favorite late-night snacks in the kitchens-“

“Please, Jude.”

It’s the rawness of those two syllables that cause me to still. Never once have I heard him say please, besides when begging for his life. I take in the slight inward curve of his shoulders, the dullness of his eyes. It doesn’t take much to see that he’s just as exhausted as I am.

I take pity on him and motion for him to sit beside me on the bed. He does, sinking into the mattress silently. For awhile, the only sound is the crackle of the burning logs.

“Well?” I ask, patience wearing thin. “Are you going to sit there and sulk all night? I recall you mentioning talking. Which involves, you know, speaking. Like a conversation-“

“I can’t keep doing this forever, Jude,” he says, brows knitting together. I wait for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, a stone settles in my gut. This could be  _bad._ I school my features into a neutral expression and prepare for the worst.

“Can’t keep doing what, your Highness?” I cannot help myself from rubbing the title in his face; reminding him of our deal. But his flinch does not provide me the satisfaction I was hoping for.

“This,” he repeats, motioning between us. “Pretending that there’s nothing there, acting like you mean nothing to me.” He turns his hollow eyes up to my face, and my heart clenches. “I can’t keep pretending to be some cruel, heartless being and treat you as if you’re beneath me.”

“What are you saying, Cardan?” My voice is barely a whisper. My heart pounds so loud I’m afraid he’ll hear it. His gaze dip to my lips, his mouth twisting with remorse.

“I’m saying that… You mean something to me, Jude. And I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’m drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stay away. And… I hope you’ll forgive me for this.”

My brows draw together. “Forgive you for-“

I am cut off by the unexpected feeling of Cardan’s wind-chapped lips on mine. This kiss isn’t like the first time, which had been fueled by spite. It doesn’t feel like running over knives; its softer. Sweeter, like the memory of the chocolate chip cookies mom made for my sisters and I when we were younger.

His mouth and tongue are gentle against mine, and this time its clear he isn’t trying to hold back. He’s stopped trying to resist temptation, instead had given into it wholly. I follow his lead, tangling my fingers in his dark locks above his thorny crown, tugging him closer. His hands slip under my shirt, and its only then that I pull away.

He’s gone too far.

Drawing a deep breath, we’re still close enough that I can smell him. I can smell the pine and the stables, scents from our journey which cling to his unwashed skin. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the throne room, and how we could never be equals.

Some may call me the Queen, but I could never actually  _be_ one.

“Leave,” I whisper, cheeks burning with shame as I turn from him.

“Jude?” There is sorrow in his voice, along with a million questions. I have a million questions of my own, too, but none that I want answers to right now.

“We can’t,” I say simply.

From the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s shoulders slump. His footfalls are silent as he strides for the door and pauses with one pale hand on the knob. I can feel his eyes searching, like hot pinpricks on my skin.

“We could, if we dared.”

I stare at the carpet as the door clicks shut behind him and everything I thought I knew crumbles to dust.


End file.
